


Lunch

by silverlysilence



Series: A Hint of Smallville in Gotham [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Smallville
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverlysilence/pseuds/silverlysilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small favor for a small favor and afterwards, Alfred serves lunch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lunch

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't stopped this series, just lost inspiration. Damn you Captain America: Civil War, you broke my heart and now have consumed me with angst. Tried to write something happy, hence, new DCU fic because Marvel's killing me.

“That’s the last of it,” Alfred glanced up from the stove over at the door where a dirt covered Clark with his new glasses askew on his face was taking off his mud covered boots before entering the cottage. Shelby, sporting a yellow vest with _In_ _Training Do Not Pet_ printed across both sides, followed faithfully at the teenager’s heels with only minor stains on his white coat.

“I’m just about finished here, why don’t you clean up in the bathroom down the hall,” the elderly man dipped his head in the direction towards hall. The teenager nodded and headed off down the hall. Feeling movement at his feet, he looked down to find the gangly puppy standing on his back paws, trying to sneak a snack.

“Down,” Alfred admonished the canine. Shelby whimpered, but obediently dropped to all fours with his ears drooping low. “Oh, I supposed a small piece wouldn’t hurt.”

Picking a chunk of meat out of the skillet, the man tossed it over the puppy’s head and was surprised when Shelby effortlessly snapped it out of the air. Gobbling down the meat, pitiful blue eyes turned back towards Alfred, pleading for more.

“I think not,” the older gentleman shook his head and gave the stir-fry one last stir before turning off the heat. The food was then transferred to a serving dish and set on the small table. Once finished, he glanced out the window to the picturesque view. Gone were the wilted plants, replaced with beautiful blooming flowers and the over grown bushes had been trimmed into manageable sizes.

“I put the trimming in the garbage out back and the tools back in the shed.”

“Thank you, you’ve done a wonderful job,” Alfred smiled turning around and motioned for Clark to take a seat at the table. The boy did so and politely waited for him to take a seat before helping himself to the food. “It really is appreciated.”

“Just returning the favor, if it wasn’t for you, I’d have lost the farm. You’re the one that helped me cut through all that paperwork,” Clark shot back, referring to their earlier conversation regarding the suggestion of payment which the farm boy venomously refused.

“It was no trouble at all,” Alfred brushed aside his contribution, because wading through simple farm paperwork was relaxing after the stuff Bruce had him do on a daily basis.

“And planting a few flowers and trimming trees wasn’t any trouble for me,” the teenager smiled, picking up his chopsticks and fumbling to position them in his hands. “You have a nice home here, Mr. Pennyworth.”

“It isn’t much, but it’s mine. Not that I get out here as much as I’d like,” the elderly man expertly used his chopsticks to pick up a piece of chicken.

“Oh? It’s not that far from the city and I know people who commute from Metropolis take far longer to get to Gotham than it did for us to get here.”

“True, but it’s not the distance which has kept me away. I’ve been staying with my boy and giving him a hand with his rascals.”

“I didn’t know you had grandchildren,” Clark looked up, the carrot he was holding with his chopsticks falling back on to his plate in surprise.

Alfred was a little more composed in his shock, but didn’t show it. He had never thought of himself as a grandfather. Yet, when he stopped to think about that was exactly what he was, a grandfather.

“Three to be precise,” the older man confirmed with a smile.

“And let me guess, they’re just as much trouble as their father?”

“Hard to tell,” at the confused expression on the poor farm boy’s face, Alfred elaborated. “They’re all adopted.”

“Still doesn’t mean the kids don’t take after your boy. I take off after Ma and Pa.”

This time, the older man did lower his chopsticks. “You were adopted?”

“When I was three,” Clark confirmed, helping himself to seconds. “One of Ma’s friends, Annette, was a lawyer and arranged everything. Although, it’s kinda an on running joke in Smallville that I officially don’t exist; Annette died in the first meteor shower bringing me to town and all the corresponding paperwork was never recovered. New papers were made, but my past was a mystery.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, did you ever search into your past?”

“No, yeah…I mean, no I don’t mind and yeah, I went searching. Found what I was looking for and more.” The anguished looked on the teenager’s face told Alfred all he needed to know. Clark hadn’t just lost one set of parents, but two. Life sure had not been fair to the boy.

Alfred hoped things would turn around for the boy and they would. However, what the aged gentleman did not know was that before things would get better, they would get worse. Much worse.


End file.
